


Contracts, commendations and a cat

by Nenchen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aka Crowley has no measure of what is an appropriate gift to your interior designer, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Aziraphale is the brave one, Business relationship to lovers, Confessions, Crowley is Bad at Communicating (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Flirting (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Kiss, Getting to Know Each Other, Gift Giving, Humor, Interior Decorating, Interior designer Aziraphale, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not in the fic but I think aziraphale would make Crowley paint a wallblack, Pre-Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, asking someone out, not the point, or well idk what that job is bc az plans everything but WHATEVER, the point is you dont gift them expensive stuff because they make you BUY expensive stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenchen/pseuds/Nenchen
Summary: Aziraphale Fell is a self employed interior designer who just finished his latest project with his client, Mr. Crowley. The project went very well, pleasant (in a strictly business only way of course).Mr. Crowley, apparently a very satisfied customer, keeps coming back with new projects. But what is it that he seems to always keep himself from saying to Aziraphale?A cute story about falling in love and finally acting on it too.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 77





	Contracts, commendations and a cat

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 5 am and had this damn plot in my head. Thanks go out to carrot because I proceeded to use out PMs as notebook, and woke up to cheers.

“And with that you should be all set with your new kitchen, Mr. Crowley,” Aziraphale said, beaming at his client. “If you’d be so kind to take the time to fill out one of our surveys, so we can continue to better our service? You can of course do it in the vestibule.”

An affirmative noise from the client and Aziraphale handed over the papers. Mr. Crowley took them, then stopped for a second as if to say something but instead shook his head slightly and shuffled out of his office. Aziraphale cleaned up his desk. The project file, together with the signed confirmation of completion went into one of his folders, and that folder into the allocated drawer of his filing cabinet (sorted not only alphabetically but also for likelihood of a return client). He should clean up the glass of water and the tea he set out for each client next, but he took the freedom to lean back in his chair for a few seconds and bask in the feeling of a job well done. The whole project with Mr. Crowley had been model work. The man knew what he wanted but had still been open to suggestions, taking each of Aziraphale’s remarks into careful consideration. And he had been very pleasant to talk to. Really, Aziraphale would miss him – as a client, of course, he was quick to correct himself. 

With a sigh, that was most assuredly content and not even in the slightest wistful, he got up to put the dishes away in the small kitchenette that was connected to the vestibule. To his surprise, Mr. Crowley was still in the waiting room, hunched over the evaluation papers. Which was odd, because he did seem to be finished filling them out, pen down and many boxes neatly coloured in blue.

“I’ll be with you to collect the papers in two shakes, or in case you have any questions, just putting this away,” Aziraphale said and did just that.

When he came out of the kitchen again, Mr. Crowley was standing next to his chair, holding out the papers. He looked very unsettled for some reason, shifting slightly from side to side.

“Oh, no need to be agitated. I’m sure you can’t have written anything negative enough to faze me,” Aziraphale said, voice carefully light as he took the papers from the man.

“Wha- no no there’s nothing negative. Only good. Glowing endorsement, you earned it,” Mr. Crowley stammered.

Aziraphale beamed, pleased to have judged correctly. And then he allowed himself a little joke.

“Well, then maybe I’ll make it to employee of the month this time, instead of Charles. Thank you for taking the time, and I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of the day and your new kitchen.”

He shook Mr. Crowley’s hand, the other’s mouth working around some words. But again, he decided against saying them and went out of the door only calling back a short “Ta!”

And Aziraphale went back into his office to work on the next client.

That had been on Friday. Cue his surprise when on Monday he got a call from the very same Mr. Crowley.

“Mr. Fell, hello.”

“Oh, Mr. Crowley, lovely to hear from you. Is there an issue with the kitchen?” he asked, worried.

Some aborted noises from the other side almost had him asking if Mr. Crowley was still on line, but then the man spoke up again.

“Oh, no, nonono, no issues, no issues at all. No, no, just…” he drifted off.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, then?” Aziraphale prompted. Secretly he was elated to talk to the man again, but it was still the middle of his work day.

“Oh, yes!” the other man scrambled. “You see you did such a good job with my kitchen, and I need help with my living room, so I hoped to see if you still had some capacity?”

Aziraphale already had his planner out. 

“Would Wednesday afternoon work for you? That’s the next possible date. Of course we can always-”

“No, I mean, yes. Wednesday, perfect. I’ll see you!”

And with that, the other had hung up the phone. Aziraphale blinked. He hadn’t even told the man the exact time of the appointment. Ah well. He would just send a date affirmation email. He got to work, ignoring the little smile that had snuck on his face.

Apparently Crowley had very suddenly moved to London due to his work and thus had been left without time to furnish it properly. Aziraphale understood that but silently wondered why he kept hiring him instead of doing some of it himself. He did have a pretty clear picture of what he wanted already. Some people just liked to rest assured someone else was handling the rest, Aziraphale supposed.

Over the course of the next 2 months, he not only helped Mr. Crowley furnish his living room (which got him some flowers), but also remodel his bathroom (for which Mr. Crowley insisted to be called only Crowley), entryway (Crowley gifted him a small keychain with angel wings), lounge/plant room (he really hoped he wouldn’t under- or overwater the potted plant he had been gifted that time, it was stunning) and office (he almost didn’t take the quill Crowley gifted him this time, he had an inkling that it was worth much more than the other was admitting). By now he felt like he knew the man’s apartment almost as well as his own, and if that wasn’t an oddly appealing thought. He squashed it down again. No unprofessional contact with clients.

This last project would probably be the final one though, as Crowley had informed him that he had already furnished the bedroom himself, and there were no other rooms left. Aziraphale felt a twinge of sadness at that. He could admit that he would miss working with Crowley, who was a remarkably reasonable client. His choices had only gone over the budget once. 

He moved out of his office to take the evaluation papers from Crowley for one last time, feeling oddly melancholic.

“Well, Crowley, it has been a pleasure to work with you,” Aziraphale said honestly, taking the papers and extending his hand for a final handshake, while firmly reminding himself that it was unprofessional to ask out a client.

“Much the same, much the same.” Crowley reached into his bag and pulled out a wine bottle, wrapped so the label wasn’t visible. “And here is your present. Don’t you go and unwrap it now, I know you’ll only fuss. You deserve it.”

Aziraphale tutted as he took it, but he didn’t protest. He had learned that protesting Crowley’s gift got him nothing except an overly exaggerated sad expression and whines of “you don’t appreciate my gifts”. And also he was secretly very pleased by them. Crowley still stood before him, dithering.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something else?” His voice did an unsure squeak at the end of that sentence, which was unfairly endearing, just like the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Aziraphale’s heart was pounding. Was Crowley about to ask the same thing he had been thinking about? He realized with a start that if Crowley were to ask him out, he would say yes in a heartbeat. Crowley was handsome, had a good sense of humour, and he was delightfully easy to talk to. He had closed himself off not for professionalism, that had only been an excuse to save himself from the possibility of being rejected. With the way the other looked at him now, however…

“Yes?”, he prompted gently, trying to contain his giddiness.

“Did- did you, uhm,” the other stammered, before something in his face changed, expression falling just a tad. “Did you ever get to be employee of the month? Because if not, your boss doesn’t deserve you. I’ve never even seen or heard from that Charles, so.”

Aziraphale blinked, stunned for a second. Then he started laughing. A full on belly laugh, complete with a few stray tears streaming down his face. Crowley just stared at him, puzzled and slightly concerned. He steadied himself with a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, taking notice of how the other’s blush deepened.

“Crowley. I am self-employed. Charles is my cat,” he pressed out between his wheezing, and Crowley started to chuckle too. 

His laugh was lovely and all of a sudden, Aziraphale felt brave. At the worst, Crowley would reject him and he wouldn’t see him again. However, if he did nothing he would spare himself possible embarasssement, but not see Crowley again all the same. And after this, he didn’t think he’d feel too embarassed. And he also didn’t think Crowley would say no.

“If you would like, I could introduce you to him, then you’ll understand why he always ends up with the prize. I am finished with work for the day and my own flat is right across the street,” he suggested, taking his hand off the other’s shoulder with a final squeeze.

Crowley stopped laughing and looked at him, wide-eyed.

“I could also cook us some dinner, if you’d like?” he continued.

The other man’s face was closed off again, confusion and doubt in his features, but Aziraphale thought he saw just the tiniest spark of hope in his eyes. He took a deep breath. Not the time to backpedal. Onwards!

“Dinner as in I am asking you out. But don’t worry, I shan’t be cross if you decline the invitation.”

That brought Crowley back to life.

“NO! I mean, uh, yes. Yes, I’d like that. Very much so.”

Aziraphale beamed.

“Well then, follow me. And we can share this wine that I think is very much not in the usual category that you gift someone for doing their work,” he teased, Crowley grumbling but not denying that fact.

In Aziraphale’s flat, Crowley got to pet Charles, got to complain about Aziraphale’s own design choices (tartan, really?), got dinner and wine (which was, as Aziraphale had expected, a quite excellent vintage), and Aziraphale got the admission that the only reason Crowley hadn’t asked him out the first day was that he’d felt it was inappropriate to ask out somebody he was hiring. And, that just maybe, he’d been afraid to be rejected too. 

And after a pleasant evening with conversation and banter and laughter, instead of the handshake to say goodbye, they shared a kiss that said “goodbye for now”.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me about spelling errors, grammar errors and britpick. 
> 
> Come visit my tumblr at [goodduckingomens](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/goodduckingomens).  
> Comments and Kudos very much motivate me, so please leave some if you had fun! Keysmash comments appreaciated for the true Crowleys out there.


End file.
